The clocks changed today and went forward an hour so regardless of the time I got up, I was late anyway. This time, I can claim it was not my laziness, as I could have made the effort to awake earlier but what the heck, with nothing to get up early for, why bother! I have never really understood the purpose of having the clocks change. I know that it is to get extra daylight time in the evenings but why not adjust the system to fit the time and not the time to fit the system. Beats the heck out of me. I remember in England during WW2; they went to double savings time and clocks moved 2 hours to give extra daylight in the evenings so that outdoor workers had more daylight for their war efforts. All I can remember as a kid was going to bed with it still daylight outside at 9:00 pm complaining bitterly that I should be out playing. As it was, I could never drop off to sleep. Nowadays, we get plenty of reminders to change the clocks although I can remember getting to an early morning soccer game and found no one else around. It was the first game of the day and I had forgotten to set my clocks and was an hour early. I thought I was at the wrong field until I remembered about the time change.
The Class C that had parked late last evening was gone when I awoke and took the dogs out, so were just overnighters. Another big 5th wheel pulled in this morning to that same lot and set up in no time flat and all the temporary spaces in front of me are filled. Even with the high gas prices, people are still on the move. I am still undecided about our next move, but one thing is certain, it will not be to New York State as I had planned because of the gas prices. I am thinking that a tour of the local states, Colorado, Arkansas, New Mexico, and Arizona would be nice, and I might even find a different one to winter in next winter.
Today is a historic day for me. Fifty-five years ago, to the day, I and my family landed at New York Harbor, after making the decision to come to America at the urging of my Mother. She had arrived here immediately after WW2 to marry Hermie, a GI, she met and followed over from England after divorcing my Father. I was 11 years old at the time. That was back in 1947 and it took twenty years for me and my family to follow. We made the drive from New York City to a small town named Fort Plain located in the Mohawk Valley in Upper State New York, a journey of about 200 miles. My first impression was that everyone talked funny. My second impression was that everything was so big including the tractor trailers that passed us at 75 mph on the Thruway. That evening, we had 13 inches of wet snow. I had never seen that much snow in my life before and wondered just what we had let ourselves in for. Life progressed and there were divorces and deaths until finally, we are where we are now, living out our days in Mr. George in a nomad’s life, writing this blog and reflecting on the past.
As I look out of the huge front window of Mr. George, it is a very peaceful sight that is in my view. The couple in front of me are sitting outside in the sun with two little, long haired Dachshunds for company and others are walking around the park, some with dogs on leashes. Another couple of RVs away, a couple are sitting out with a huge Mastiff who has a little King Charles spaniel as his companion. A very odd mix. Still others are making the trip to the Laundry Room which takes about 2 hours per wash and at least 2 trips back and forth. The one good thing about the clocks changing is that I will not have to be quite so watchful of the time for the evening walk as now, it will not get dark until 8:00 pm.
We went out for the evenings walk and covered 1.7 miles for the day. The sun was shining but the wind had a chill to it, and I chose our walk to cover the sunniest roads.
Written 03/13/2022. Read my other blog at https://pondblog2011.com